


Uncommon Gallantry

by Nox (Sheut)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Emily/Lena, Found Families, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, it's...gonna get dark, lena's a cute lil kiddo, lots of cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9708917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheut/pseuds/Nox
Summary: Lena Oxton has read all about grandfathers. But, she doesn't have one of her own. That's not a problem for her - she's just gonna go and find herself one.And when Lena Oxton decides on something, it may as well be set in stone.





	1. First Impressions

 

Seven-Year-old Lena Oxton rubbed her nose and adjusted her backpack with a little huff. She took a deep breath, casting a look of determination at the old brick building before marching towards the door. _Today’s the day!_ she thought, letting a huge smile take over her face as she skipped over the checkered tiles patterning the floor. Lena stopped at the reception, calling out to the receptionist cheerily.

 

“Hiya, Mr Thompson!”

 

Alf Thompson started from his daydream and looked around for the source of the greeting, before catching sight of tufts of unruly brown spikes poking above the edge of his desk. He felt himself grin as he recognized the owner of the mop of hair.

 

“Lookie, it’s pip-squeak. Ain’tcha got a school to be at kiddo?” he teased affectionately, getting up from his chair and circling the desk to squat in front of Lena.

 

Lena pouted. “M’not a pip-squeak! I’mma strong knight!” she grumbled, glaring at Alf. “‘Sides, they ain’t doin’ nuffin’ that I don’t already know in school.” Alf laughed as he ruffled her hair, prompting Lena to wrinkle her nose and stick her tongue out at him.

 

“Still though, ya really shouldn’t be skippin’. Yer gonna be in trouble with the matron.”

 

Lena gave him an impish grin, and put on her best puppy dog eyes. “She won’t know if ya don’t tell ‘er. You ain’t gonna go tellin’ on me, are ya Mr Thompson?” Alf snorted as he stood up and dug around in his pockets.

 

“You’re a menace, kid. So whatcha reading these days? You done with the Enid Blyton books?”

 

Lena giggled as she accepted the gum that he dug out and popped it in her mouth before replying, “I ain’t _five_. I got this one... hold on--” Lena paused as she swung her backpack around and rummaged for a bit before pulling out a small, battered book and holding it out towards Alf.

 

“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” she said, beaming. Alf smiled . “Aye, that’s a good ‘un. You likin’ it then, eh?”

 

“I love it! It’s got chocolates an’- an’ it’s got this reeeeallly cool gum that’s like - it’s like an entire _meal_ in one go, wouldja believe that?? An’ it’s also got this amazing gobstopper that _never_ ends and cute little squirrels working in the factory! I want one but I don’t wanna be like Veruca Salt, she was a mean dummy. What kind of a name’s Veruca anyways, sounds like it’s a spoilt fish.” Lena excitedly waved her arms about as Alf laughed in amusement. “An’ Grandpa Joe’s _amazing_ an’ I want a grandpa so that’s why ‘m ‘ere,” she finished, eyes shining.

 

Alf paused. “Don’t think I heard ya right kiddo, you’re here ‘cuz you want a grandfather?”

Lena nodded, hair bobbing up and down comedically as she replied. “Yeah! I din’t get one and they sound amazin’ an’ there’s plenty of old folks here, right? So I’mma choose my own.”

 

Alf Thompson, receptionist and owner of the Mondatta Retirement House, stared at the diminutive girl and shook his head in wonder. “Yer really somethin’, kid. What’ll you do once you pick one?”

 

Lena shrugged. “I’unno. Play games. Talk ‘bout stuff. Read with ‘im. He’d tell me cool stories. Grandpas got cool stories, right?” Lena fell silent as she seemed to ponder about something for a moment, before suddenly becoming animated again. “I bet he’d have badass stories about the Omnic War. Y’reckon he’d be able to tell me somethin’, right? Matron says I ain’t old ‘nuff for that stuff yet but bollocks to that, I’m more bigger-er than the other kids already ‘cuz I can tie my own shoelaces an’ I can read bigger books than them already so _there_ ,” she ended on a final note, crossing her arms.

 

“Language, kiddo,” Alf drawled as he gave Lena an amused look. “You sure uh...got a lot of ideas ‘bout whatcha wanna do with your gramps, eh?”

 

Alf felt his heart melt as Lena bounced excitedly, her face morphing into the biggest grin he had ever seen.

 

“Seems you got it all planned out then. Go ahead kiddo. Just don’t bother the folks up in the Lawrence wing...” Alf trailed off as he noticed he was talking to air, Lena having run off the moment he gave her the okay. He gave a huff of amusement as he paused to pick up the papers Lena’s speedy departure blew to the ground. Plopping himself back on his chair, Alf let his thoughts wander over to the enigma that was Lena Oxton. The kid seemed to have a boundless well of cheerfulness and energy, always running around and trying to help people. _‘Least someone’s keeping things positive around here_ , he thought with small smile, _Lord knows we could use it after the shitshow this decade’s been._

  


* * *

 

Lena ran through the corridors as she raced towards the common room, nearly tipping over a resident in the process. “Sorry Missus!” she yelled, as she cast an apologetic look at the elderly lady before skidding to a halt in front of the room she was looking for. She reached out a small hand to push the door open.

 

“LENA OXTON”

 

“ _Shite.”_

 

Lena looked around in terror for the source of the voice. Her eyes widened as she spotted the plump figure of the matron at the reception desk. _This is Very Bad_ , she decided as she turned and booked it the opposite direction. She careened around a corner and ducked into a random room, slamming the door shut behind her and diving behind a dresser. She closed her eyes as she pulled her legs closer to her chest and took deep breaths, ears straining for the familiar staccato of the matron’s heels. The clacking sound grew louder in volume, and paused. Lena held her breath. After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps resumed and receded in volume before vanishing entirely.

 

Lena let out the breath she’d been holding, deflating physically. She opened her eyes and looked around, taking in the room. The dresser beside her was old, flakes of paint chipped away. An equally old wardrobe stood to her left, an old leather jacket hanging from it’s handle. The wall opposite was home to a clock and a pair of thick curtains that were drawn tight. Moving her gaze down, she saw the thin bed - and the annoyed looking man sitting on top of it, who was staring at her.

 

Her eyes widened.

 

The man glared.

 

Lena scrambled to her feet. “Oh gosh Mister, I’m so sorry. I swear, I wasn’t lookin’ to disturb you or nuffin’ I just wanted to hide an’ your room was right _there_ an’...” Lena trailed off as she took his appearence. Black hair topped the gaunt face with deep set stormy gray eyes that stared at her, faint scar visible down the ridge of an aquiline nose, frown lines etched above it. A scruffy black beard speckled with grey surrounded thin lips pressed together in annoyance. Her eyes flickered down, noticing a wiry body covered by a faded dull green t-shirt with concentric circles of blue, white and red in the middle. A calloused hand rested on the right knee and a stub ended the arm at the elbow where the left hand should’ve been.

 

“Er - “

 

“Done staring?” the man asked dryly.

 

Lena flushed, suddenly finding the curtains much more interesting. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she found her voice again.  “M’ sorry, Mister. Didn’t mean to be rude. I just… I uh…”

 

The man snorted and closed his eyes. “Might as well spit it out. Go on.”

 

“I’msosorryforstarinan’this’sreallyrudebutwhathappenedtoyourARM?” Lena spit out in a rush, muddling her words.

 

“Lost it in the war. Got shot outta my plane, the bastards got a lucky shot in. ‘Course the _omnics_ never played by the bloody rules of honor. Gunned me as I floated down,” he said bitterly. He opened his eyes once more to see Lena staring at him in awe.

 

“Cor,” she breathed, her eyes wide as saucers “ that must’ve _sucked_.”

 

That prompted a laugh from the resident. “Yup. Sure did.”

 

“So...what’d ya do after that? Didya get to fight more? Didya get a cool shiny metal hand like my class teacher’s? Didya fight a lot of omnics? How many -- ”

 

“I’m here, ain’t I kid?” He answered with a glare, cutting Lena off. “Now, scram before I call Alf and get him to throw your scrawny arse out.”

 

Lena felt her cheeks heat up, she’d clearly messed up _bad_. “Sorry, Mister. Matron always said I got a big mouth on me that don’t know when to shut up. I’ll.. I’ll stop botherin’ you.” She inched backwards towards the door and turned around to open it.

 

“Close the door behind you, kid,” the man said, his voice muffled by his still intact hand that was now rubbing a tired face.

 

Lena nodded, and quietly stepped through the door and shut it behind her. She took a long breath and exhaled slowly. “Well,” she said to herself, “ _that_ could’ve gone better.”


	2. Planes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting into trouble and research is all in a days work.

Alf lazily looked in the direction of the approaching footsteps, frowning slightly when he saw the tiny drooping figure drag it’s feet towards the reception.

 

“What happened, squirt? Evie catch you skippin’?”

 

Lena looked up with a start. “Wha? Ah - naw. Found a room to hide in, ‘m good.”

 

“What’s got ya mopin’ then? Folks turn ya down?”

 

“Er... no, actually. Say, Mr T, who’s the old chap in the green shirt? The one who’s kinda got a face like this,” Lena paused to make a fierce scowl and gesture towards her left arm, “and’s missin’ this arm.”

 

Alf squinted as he thought. “You mean Cox? The lad from the RAF?”

 

“Wot’s the RAF?”

 

“Airforce. Ya know, planes.”

 

“Yeah! That’s the one!” Lena cheered.

 

Alf frowned. “Hold up now,” he said, “didn’t I tell you to not disturb them folks up in Lawrence wing?”

 

“Aw bollocks, I swear on me books I didn’t mean to. I jus’ wanted a place to hide from Miss Evie y’see,” Lena said abashedly, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. “So uh. I think I made him sad. I feel really bad ‘bout that so...couldja tell me what he likes? I’mma make him a card and bring ‘im some cookies; everyone likes cookies, right?”

 

“Dunno kid, he ain’t one to talk much. Keeps to himself mostly. ‘Sides, I suggest that you don’t bother him no more - fella’s had a tough time.”

 

“Awww but --”

 

“No buts, squirt. Go on now, off with ya ‘fore the matron comes round again. Ya don’t wanna be grounded _again_ , do ya?”

 

Lena pouted, but nodded and waved goodbye as she walked out of the building. _RAF,_ she mused, _sounds all fancy an’ important like._ She skipped down the street and took a left, waving cheerful greetings to familiar faces, splashing in puddles along the way. Her path brought her to a large building that she eagerly ran into.

 

“Lena Oxton.”

 

Lena attempted to freeze mid stride, causing her to trip over her own legs and slide to an undignified stop on the cold marble floor.

 

A sigh. “How many times have I told you to not run in the hall?” a stern yet fond voice scolded her as gentle hands picked her up from the floor. Lena blushed and mumbled her thanks, picking up her bag and straightening her clothes.

 

“Sorry Miss Evie,” she said, looking at the ground, “won’t do it again.”

 

“And now that you’re here,” Evie Reynolds, matron of the JKR Orphanage continued, “mind telling me why you decided to skip school today, young lady?”

 

Lena briefly contemplated telling a lie, before noticing the look in the matron’s eyes and deciding against it.

 

“I...I uh…” Lena gulped as the matron raised an eyebrow, “I went to go get a granddad.”

 

“I see,” she said, unperturbed by this confession, “and why was this more important than your schooling?”

 

Lena didn’t answer, scuffing the ground while staring at the matron’s skirt with a guilty look on her face. Evie sighed again as she gently reached down and tilted Lena’s head up with her hand.

 

“Lena, sweetheart. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, but you can’t just ignore school.” Giving Lena a soft smile, she continued, “How about you promise me that you won’t skip school again, and I’ll help you with finding a grandpa?” Lena nodded, wordlessly reaching her arms out for a hug. Evie bent down and hugged her tightly before standing up and taking her tiny hand in her own. “Alright, let's go over what you missed today and then you’ll have some free time to play before supper.”

 

* * *

 

Lena whistled tunelessly as she walked towards the small library that the orphanage housed. Two hours of schoolwork later, she was finally free to go look up what had been on her mind ever since she’d left the retirement home. The old man had intrigued her, his having fought in the war piquing her interest. He hadn’t skirted around the issue like the other adults tended to do. Lena shook her head, pausing her train of thought to peek around the open doorway. She grinned as she took in the empty library and computers, skipping her way over to one.

 

“Right,” she said as she brought up the browser, “he said RAF. Time for some research.”

 

And that is how the matron found her when she came looking for the girl at suppertime, deeply engrossed in a page about fighter jets. She smiled as Lena jumped when she ruffled her hair.

 

“What’s got your attention today - planes?”, she asked, bringing herself to eye level with the excited child.

 

“Planes!! Big planes! Small planes! Planes with those lil fan like thingies on them!” Lena bounced in the chair excitedly, straining into the fingers carding through her tousled hair. “They’re _so cool!!!_ What kinda planes d’ya reckon they used in the war? D’ya think it was those really cool ones that do the piloting ‘n stuff automatically for you? I bet they were, right?? Just gotta line up and _pew pew pew_ like that,” she rambled excitedly, making finger guns as she spoke.

 

The matron cut her off by patting her head twice and standing up and walking towards the door. “That’s lovely dear, but it’s suppertime and we shouldn’t keep the others waiting, come on now.”

 

Lena pouted, but powered the computer off before following the matron for dinner.

 

* * *

 

Books, clothes and papers flew across the room and added another layer to the mess as Lena dug through her belongings, looking for the book that had captured her attention so. “Aw c’mon, I know I had it in here!” she grumbled, tossing another sock over her shoulder. “Where else could it possibly...bugger _._ ” Lena closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair in exasperation.

 

Looked like she’d be stopping by the Lawrence wing the next day after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a slightly shorter chapter, but I wanted to lay the groundwork for some things that'll be coming in the future.
> 
> Shoutout to [ Buttons](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttons15/pseuds/Buttons15) for being the best (and also being 7-year-old-Lena-but-much-older-actually-irl).


	3. The World Breaks Us All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War leaves wounds deeper than the eyes can see.

Lena poked her head around the corner, eyes scanning for any hint of Alf. Once satisfied that the reception and hallway held no trace of him, she quickly crossed the expanse and made her way to the common room. She hurried down the hall that ran in front it and paused once she reached the first corridor that branched off. “Hmm,” she thought, “Lawrence. Now that’s…” She spun around, squinting at the tiny signs on the intersections, “ _ there! _ ” she exclaimed triumphantly.

 

She stared down the corridor, trying to remember which door she had ducked into the other day. A tense silence enveloped her, making her hair stand on an end and causing her to glance behind her in trepidation. “S’way creepy,” Lena mumbled to herself as she cast an unhappy look at the long line of doors and started walking down slowly, reading the nameplates out loud. 

 

“Parker, Singh, Owen…”

 

A loud crash pierced the silence, causing her to jump with a yelp. Lena brought a hand to her chest and took deep breaths, trying to calm her hammering heart. “Cor, what was  _ that _ ?” She strained her ears, quietly following the direction of muffled sobs. Lena rested a hand on the door where the sounds seemed to be coming from, hesitating. Her eyes widened as she looked up and noticed the nameplate on the door, and she chewed her lip as she debated between getting Alf and opening the door to take a quick look. 

 

_ Just a quick peek won’t hurt _ , Lena decided, curiosity winning out over the more sensible voice screaming at her to go find Alf. She silently cracked the door open and peeked through the narrow gap, looking for anything unusual. The same bare room from the day before greeted her, specks of dust drifting lazily through narrow beams of light. Lena frowned and pushed the door slightly wider, taking tentative steps in.

 

“Hello?”

 

A whimper. Lena froze as her head whipped in the direction of the sound, eyes focusing on a huddled shape in the corner. “Um, are you okay mister?” Lena asked cautiously. No reply. “Um. I’m gonna go find Alf then, okay?”  _ That _ got her a response.

“No.” 

 

“Uh. Are you sure? Do you need help mister?”

 

“No, no no no...” The older man hugged himself tighter with his remaining arm, rocking himself back and forth slightly, sobs wracking his body. Lena stood helplessly, staring at the figure. “Er…” she trailed off, wringing her hands.  _ This _ , a part of her thought,  _ is not how this was supposed to go _ . Another choked sob startled her back to the present. 

 

“I don’t want to die,  _ please _ , I  _ beg _ you,” he whimpered brokenly, eyes staring off into space, “the omnics - they’re gonna get me, I  _ know _ it! Please…”

 

Lena gave him a confused look. “Omnics? It’s just me an’ you here Mister Cox!” 

 

“No no no, get _away_ don’t _touch me you_ _bastard I’ll take you out with me!_ You killed them, oh god you killed them all, _you bastards_ … I… I please… Johnson… Maryam… They’re all dead and, and, oh gods. It was my fault, I didn’t _see_ our planes turning and shooting at us; _I didn’t think..._ and oh _god!_ I’m gonna die next…”

 

_ The war! _ Lena realized with a start.  _ He thinks he’s in the war! _ “You’re not in the war anymore Mister, you’re in London!” she called out. The veteran shook slightly, but his whimpers quieted a little. Lena slowly sat down. “You’re fine, Mr. Cox. You’re in London.” His breathing eased out a bit, encouraging Lena to say it again. She sat there and repeated herself for what seemed like an eternity, till the old man stopped shaking and his breathing evened out.

 

“Water…”

 

Lena jumped at the hoarse croak, and hastily pulled out a small water bottle from her bag. She opened it and held it out tentatively. He stared at it blankly for a few seconds before taking it with a mumble and drinking greedily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand once he was done. He held the bottle back out and looked at Lena. Lena coloured slightly, taking the bottle back and turning around to put it in her backpack. She turned around to face him again, noticing him still looking at her and fidgeted. 

 

“Erm… Uh…” 

 

“Thank you.” The words were quiet, almost inaudible. 

 

Lena blushed and rubbed at the back of her neck with her hand. The man shivered violently and Lena stood up quickly. “You’re cold!” she exclaimed, and crossed over to the wardrobe to grab the old jacket that was still hanging there. She ran her thumbs over the leather, marvelling at the texture as she walked back over to him. Lena hesitated for a moment before draping it over his still-huddled form and taking a step back.

 

“So uh,” she began, stuttering under the attentive grey eyes, “I uh - I just…”

 

The man gave her a small smile. “You’re an odd kid.”

 

Lena pouted slightly at that, crossing her arms and mumbling an indignant “Am not!”

 

“Why are you here?” He asked, tilting his head curiously.

 

“I uh, I was lookin’ for my book, see. I think it dropped in here yesterday while I was hidin’.”

 

The man nodded towards the dresser. “That the one? Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?”

 

“Yeah! That’s the one!” Lena ran over and grabbed it, hugging it to her chest and grinning. “Thanks, mister.” The man cracked another small smile at that, and the two stared at each other for a moment. “So uh,” Lena continued, “I’ll be on my way then. I - I hope you’re feelin’ better? D’ya want me to get Alf? I can grab ‘im on my way out.”

 

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Lena nodded and waved a tiny bye before walking towards the door and opening it. She was about to leave, when the resident called out to her.

 

“Hey, kid.”

 

Lena turned around and gave him a quizzical look.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“It’s uh. It’s Lena. Lena Oxton.”

 

He gave her a warm look. “Thank you, Lena.”

 

Lena beamed and waved goodbye once more, before gently shutting the door behind her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo. Okay, this was a tough one to write. Old man's had a very tough life - and the war sure hasn't done him any favors.
> 
> A massive thanks to Buttons for letting me bounce ideas off her - and the wonderful wonderful people in the OVG server for putting up with me chucking the wip at them.


End file.
